


i’m bad behaviour but I do it in the best way

by Valeks_princess



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Core Four (Disney: Descendants), Evie Has Magic, Protective Jay, Realistic, Witch Evie, auradon is oblivious, core four family, isle culture, isle kids have issues with food, isle kids react to food, isle kids think fridges are safes, isle teens think and behave like isle teens, jay's hair is important okay, magick is important, mal uses spells to cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeks_princess/pseuds/Valeks_princess
Summary: a more realistic telling of Descendants I, in which magic has more of an effect and traumatised teens behave as traumatised teens
Relationships: Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants), Doug/Evie (Disney: Descendants), Evie & Carlos de Vil, Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Jay & Mal (Disney), Jay/Mal (Disney), subtle jay/mal
Comments: 9
Kudos: 121





	1. they say we are what we are, but we don’t have to be

There was some contention about how they should present themselves when they arrived. When they had first received the news Mal had wanted to go in flames blazing, to burn them all to the ground, Evie had seconded her, she wanted them all to _pay_. Maleficent had slapped her daughter, hard enough to make blood well, and that had been the end of that. The four youths were to retrieve Fairy Godmother’s wand and open the Barrier at any cost, how they did that was up to them. 

In the end they decided on their brightest colours– dangerous but not actively trying to be a threat. Jay wore his hair down, so did the girls. They tried to emulate the way they thought the children of Auradon would act at their age, frivolous, divided, _teenagers_. They all knew what was at stake. 

* * *

They slid into the limousine, tense, on edge, ready for a fight. There was a glass screen separating them from the Auradonian driver, likely reinforced– a valid precaution, but unnecessary, and stupid. The four children in the backseat weren’t ones to jeopardize their escape from the Isle, they had much larger aims than some momentary thrill of striking a blow to Auradon, and if appearances were to be believed the Isle Four would be released into society, that while albeit supervised, was sure to provide them with more opportunities for havoc than an ill-fated lunge for the driver. 

Mal smiled slightly, just the barest quirk of her lips as Jay and Carlos lunged for the food– still a risk, unwise to acknowledge at all the bond between her and her allies. Unease stirred in her gut, how badly would it throw off the plan if Auradon found out, how much more of a risk would it make them? How many extra precautions would her cabal have to circumvent if they knew they were bringing over a honed cadre instead of a group of suspicious youths? Mal banished her worries lest they show on her face, nothing could be done about it now, they had to stick to the plan and hope for the best. She forced herself to relax incrementally, catching Jay’s gaze and taking a handful of the chocolate herself, rolling her eyes. Already the plan was grating on them, how he couldn’t just pass some to her, how she couldn’t in turn hand any to Evie. Mal turned to see if the girl had gotten any of the sweets, seeing her preoccupied fretting with her makeup. Mal leaned into her as much as she could without it being noticeable, twirling her fingers in the air in what hopefully would look like a nonsense pattern to the people of Auradon. Evie picked up on the code and forced herself to still, reaching out to snag a blue treat. Wait– were people in Auradon trained in detecting evil? Did they have classes on how to spot illicit communication, how to manipulate, put people off guard? Was it working on her? Did people in Auradon use magic to read thoughts? To detect emotion?

But then they were moving, and Mal didn’t have much time to think of anything anymore, the Barrier looming before them. All thoughts of their deceit, of leaving themselves looking divided, an easier target vanished as they approached the Barrier. Someone began to scream and Mal wasn’t sure who, maybe it was all of them. They bunched together, instinctually, Jay reaching his arm back, towards Mal, pinning Carlos and Evie between them– where the other two could keep them safe. Evie closed her eyes, burying her face in Carlos’ hair. Mal felt a momentary surge of anger overpowering the terror– how could they do this to Evie, it would destroy her! Her image was an almost sacred thing to her in a way it wasn’t for the rest of them, to be so ridiculed, so damaged in public view–

Mal steeled herself and waited for the jolt of electricity, the burning, writhing _agony_ , the tug at her navel as the Barrier speared her, hoisted her– and then they were through, the car shepherding them safely onto the other side, bridge of magic preceding them out over the water. The rush of _relief_ that hit her was so strong it nearly bowled her over. Emotion was bubbling in her veins, thick and heady, making her heart race and some coiled knot inside of her release all at once, expanding, shattering, _exploding_ outwards within her. Her gaze found her allies, slowly beginning to uncoil where they were clinging together, and the feeling faded in place of concern over them, her eyes moving swiftly, taking them in. Jay looked queasy, Evie contemplative, and Carlos normal. Jay caught her searching eye and smiled, just enough if slightly wan, inclining his head, reminding her. Right, she’d almost forgotten, they needed to be focused. 

She questioned the driver even though she knew they weren’t stupid enough to leave the switch in reach of the greatest threat to their realm in a generation– no matter how much they underestimated the children they were gift-wrapping the conquering of their kingdom for– drawing the man’s attention, keeping his focus off her people, giving them a chance to collect themselves, doing what she did best. The man laughed at her, actually _laughed_ at Mal Daughter of Maleficent, and Mal fought down her smirk, maybe she would find she liked being underestimated. 

* * *

The isle four practically fell out of the car, Jay shoving Carlos– carefully, oh so carefully, half catching him before he hit the ground. He froze instantly, something like shame and fear shifting in his gut– _stupid!_ They were meant to be divided, were actively trying to present themselves as _not a threat_ , he couldn't let on that they were viciously protective of their own, that they were allies. But Carlos yanked Jay down with him, pretending that it was momentum and not his own strength that sent the bigger boy sprawling. Evie stepped daintily over the pair, Mal bringing up the rear, having to check the sense of unease at the shuffling of their usual order– she was meant to be first, as leader _she_ drew the fire, trusting Evie and Carlos with her back, and Jay to be watching them. This was _wrong_ , this was putting them in _danger._ But that was the point, she reminded herself, and smothered the knotted disquiet and worry shifting in her gut, standing square as she faced the three Auradonians, flanked by a procession, Jay and Carlos still making a show of struggling over the warm sheaf of material. It would be a shame to leave it behind. 

The Auradonians were obviously putting on a show, and Mal couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t a very good one. A _band_ , really? Well if they wanted to put them at ease with airs of frivolity then by all means, Mal would play along. 

When the short woman in blue introduced herself as Fairy Godmother Mal couldn’t help being shocked, somehow she’d expected _more_ from the most powerful light-magick being currently living, but she knew that though Faeries were slight their diminutive stature concealed the ability to harness much more power than many would expect. She would not allow herself to underestimate this woman. Fairy Godmother’s ditzy, naive mask was good, but there was something knowing about her gaze, and Mal fought to keep herself from sneering. Something shifted and throbbed but she was too distracted by the immaculate teen stepping in front of Fairy Godmother, forcing the unknown feeling down in a way that caused pain to bite into her, but then the boy– the prince, _the_ Prince who was responsible for them being here was speaking, and Evie was moving, playing the distraction, and Mal doubled down on the electric ache gnawing its way up her spine to rest between her shoulders. 

When Mal first saw Ben she knew she wanted him, watched Evie tease at flirting with the boy-King and knew her claim was seconded. When the pastel bitch snapped at Evie, her barbed words hidden behind the veneer of a smile, Mal wanted to lunge forward and tear her face off. She would have, on the Isle. The youth was attacking the very thing that Evie was raised on, the foundation she had been built around. Not a princess? Her mother _not a queen_? That was ridiculous, impossible. _If you can’t take it, break it_ , Jay thought, watching the bitch attack Evie, the group’s emotional centre, painting a target on her back. She’d better watch herself, because Jay was coming for her _._ Mal tilted her head, watching the insistent way Audrey extolled herself as Ben’s girlfriend, the way the Prince looked uncomfortable, trapped even, yet didn’t correct her. _Interesting_ , though her plan to collect the man had flagged when she’d discovered his identity as future king it seemed that there was something there she could exploit, and if it took something from Audrey? Mal bared her teeth at the daughter of Aurora, trying to hide the urge to tear her apart.


	2. i’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame, i’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

The first thing Mal did when they were left alone in their room was settle herself on what had become her bed, her mother’s spell book resting on her knees, watching Evie prowl the room in search of weaknesses or recording devices. She came up with nothing, and it was likely that Auradonians used magic for the task, so Mal began tracing wards around the edge of the room, cursing when they flickered and died. She could _feel_ her power floating untethered, so unlike the oppressive blanket that had constricted her behind the Barrier. Her powers _should_ work here. Maybe her mother was right, maybe her majick had been dulled somehow, either through the Barrier or because of her human sire. Evie hemmed her leader’s face with her hands, smoothing the frustrated scowl. 

“Start small” she told the demi-Fae, “build up to it”. But Mal just shook her head, roiling wave cresting inside of her. She _would_ do this, she refused to leave them unprotected. But maybe Evie was right, so Mal eased a blade from her sleeve and scored deep into a fingertip. The blood was a crutch, she knew that, but she also knew it was a shortcut to the deepest well of majick power, that it worked when the Barrier was thinnest, and it would work now. So Mal tugged Evie’s shift off her, baring her back, eyes flaring poison green as she trailed glyphs and sigils over the princess’ fair skin. Evie gasped as the sigils caught, feeling the flare of power scoring into her skin, and the blood seemed to shift under Mal’s gaze before it began to flake away, already a dry husk. Maybe you had to want it.

* * *

The two girls slipped into the boys’ room past lights out, finding them awake and restless. Jay was sorting through his loot and Mal couldn’t resist appreciatively looking it over, glad that the pickings were so easy here, that Jay didn’t have to worry about failure. But still, it was a risk, though a necessary one. She could no more ask Jay to keep from stealing than to expect the knotted rope of her mother’s power twining underneath her ribs to gently fade. One day she would either be strong enough to break from her mother’s control or would be killed in the attempt. It was inevitable. But for now she had power, couldn’t even feel the gaping hole where she had warded Evie, just the roiling mess of burgeoning magick that she was going to use to protect them all. 

A simple command had both Jay and Carlos shedding their jackets and shirts, kneeling bare chested with their backs to her. As before she drew sigils on them in her own blood, leaving a trail of glyphs stamped between their shoulder blades, following the curve of their spines. Once she finished the majick flared, and the withered blood was no longer able to cling to their skin. Jay shrugged his jacket back on, feeling crushing bands all of a sudden digging into his ribs. But it didn’t hurt, not really, and Carlos was already clothed and unaffected, standing beside Evie searching for the wand, so Jay just let it go, submitting to the sensation. 

* * *

The first time Mal used magic without a crutch was at the museum. They needed the doors open, _needed_ it, and for some reason the door was _actually_ locked. She knew Jay’s kick wouldn’t work, not if there was actually a lock, not like anywhere on the Isle, and so she traced glyphs into the air and _willed_ her intent forward. The door swung inward without force, simple spell joining the sleeping guard in soothing some of the vicious ache in her blood, consuming her from the inside. She was becoming increasingly certain that it was her majick, her very blood rebelling. But that was a problem for later, and so they went on, swallowed up into the museum.

When Jay ignored Mal, hand already outstretched towards the wand, he knew it was a mistake. His body rebelled against him, insistent with the urge to give up and submit to his leader, but his father’s voice in his head, the feeling of his painful grip– he had no choice, and he knew Mal understood. 

Jay hit the barrier and was thrown back, all the air leaving his lungs at once, something within him _screaming_. He gasped, winded, struggling to pull himself upright. Mal was clutching her head, teeth gritted to keep from _shrieking_. The siren was digging into her skull, her bones, stripping her down. It was magick, it had to be. So they ran, Jay floundering, skin _burning_ where it had touched the forcefield. He felt like he was going to be sick, like he needed to bend double, gasp for air and expel whatever it was inside of him that wanted _out._ But he kept running and eventually the feeling faded; it wasn’t until they were back at their dorms that he realised the knotted band of pressure against his ribs had disappeared. 

* * *

Mal was glittering with rage, brilliantly bedecked with anger that Jay could almost _see_ coating her, fanning out behind her. He didn’t say he was sorry, he _wasn’t_ , but he had made a mistake, he had disregarded her command, and so he would pay. Shame curled in his gut and he bowed his head. Whatever she did he deserved. 

“I, uh” Carlos shuffled uncomfortably, pointing to the door behind them. As much as the idea of them separating killed Mal she nodded. They were hers but Jay was her Second, this wasn’t their place and they knew it.

“Stay together”, she ordered, and they were off, easing the door closed behind them and disappearing in the direction of the girls’ dorm. Slowly Mal turned to face the distraught Jay, despite her anger wanting nothing more than to tilt his face up and tell him it was all okay, that she understood; but weakness had no place in her cabal, it was the only way they maintained their strength, and she could not be disobeyed again, not in unfamiliar territory, not with stakes this high.

Jay fell to his knees instantly, head bowed, waiting for her to strike him. But Mal had no need for obedience by fear, not with those that were _hers_ , so she brusquely dragged the leather from his form, trailing her hands over his skin. Mal was shocked when power surged forward, into Jay’s skin and he arched back, gasping. She hooked her hands into his hair as he shook, body thrashing from the onslaught of power. Her hands cupped the nape of his neck, nails scraping along the flesh of his back. She froze, vicious anger surging. Something was _missing_ , her magick catching on the empty place. Something was _missing_.

“It’s gone?” Mal hissed, fangs glinting as her poison green eyes _burned_ into him. She wouldn’t have it– it was _her_ mark, _her_ blood. It would _not_ disappear from him, not from him. 

“Yes,” he gasped, trying not to whimper “when the barrier hit me, absorbed it or burned it or something. Worked Mal, protected me”. She gripped him roughly by the jaw, green flames licking across her fingertips. And then power was flowing into him, being forced into him, and something in his gut was resisting, overflowing, he was full to bursting– and then he was burning from the inside out as Mal snarled, power surging, green eclipsing his vision. 

* * *

“Do you think she’s going to hurt him?” Carlos’ whispered voice was only just audible, words smothered by Evie’s shoulder. 

“Mal? Of course not, she’d never hurt any of us”

“I know that” Carlos protested, affronted. The time when he’d been afraid of Mal had long passed, he knew she’d kill for them, die for them even. And she was theirs as much as they were hers, Jay most of all. So no, he didn’t think Mal would hurt Jay, but the thief _had_ disobeyed her explicit orders, had put them all in danger– she had to do _something_. Evie just shrugged, fingers continuing to stroke through Carlos’ hair as the boy finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. 


	3. I try to picture me without you, but I can’t

Tourney, Jay found, was a joy. He didn’t expect to like anything about Auradon, but he honestly found himself enjoying the fast-paced team sport. Not only was it a physical challenge but a mental exercise as well, his entire being focused on navigating the dangerous stretch of field. When Jay woke that morning he’d been sore, muscles stiff as if heavily exerted. Mal was soundly asleep by his side, and for a moment Jay had just lain there, content to have his leader, his Queen, curled up by his side. But they were meant to be hiding that they were allies, so he slowly eased himself out from under the demi-Fae and stumbled into the shower. It was then that he’d noticed the black lines dipping over the curve of his delts. He’d spun quickly, fingers coming up to trace the dark patterns that seemed to dance over his skin. His shout had Mal sprinting into the room in a second, only to stop dead at the sight, hand reaching out to follow the geometric lines seeped into his skin. 

“Is it-”

“Majick” she confirmed. It seemed her little punishment packed more punch here in Auradon. She couldn’t suppress the vicious pulse of possessive pride at seeing him marked with her power, and was glad when Jay confirmed he didn’t mind, that he was proud to bear her mark. She tried to hide how much that thrilled her. 

Coach was again gently dissuading Carlos from being part of the team and Jay couldn’t keep from laughing, teeth flashing as he grinned. Yeah, right; as if Carlos wasn’t every bit as good as Jay. He opened his mouth to say something, and stopped, remembering that they were purposely hiding their talents, that Carlos was _playing_ at being useless. The marks on his back seemed to pulse in approval. 

Ben, for his part, was glad that the two had taken to tourney, and not because it allowed him to keep an eye on them. Jay truly enjoyed it, and somehow the Prince got the sense that the son of Jafar was much more intelligent than he let on. When he’d promised to train Carlos it had been simply a kindly act, yet the boy was wicked fast, and something seemed off when Ben compared the mediocre skills the younger boy showed in their private training to how dismal he was at practice. Was it possible Carlos was holding back? Yet Ben couldn’t understand why, what purpose would any of them have for concealing their talents? 

* * *

When Ben had first decided to try and get to know the VKs it had been an idle thought, motivated by curiosity at what he’d become increasingly sure were acts on Jay and Carlos’ part, he hadn’t truly meant to _befriend_ any of them, yet somehow he found himself truly enjoying their company. Things were _simpler_ with the four teens from the Isle, they didn’t _care_ that he was the future king. With everyone he’d ever known he was Prince Benjamin Beast, with them he could be just _Ben_. 

As for the Mal’s cabal– they knew they had to keep their guard up but everything here caught them by surprise, threw them off-balance. The contained, sheltered world of Auradon Prep swept the four away, currents dragging them under, eroding their purpose. They _wanted_ this life, the desire _burned_ in them. They _wanted,_ and so they would _take it_ , seize what had been so cruelly and unfairly denied to them. They would plunder and raid and raize– at least, that was the plan. But plans change. If the glistening, enchanting world of Auradon was all there was to it then the choice would be easy, the injustice gnawed at them like bile, acid bitterness souring this place; but it was more than that, there were people here who were truly good, selfless and kind and just, everything that was the children of the Isle had never known. The four couldn’t hold onto their hatred in the face of such honest and true acceptance, but there would be consequences, betrayal was not an option, they were _villains_ , so Mal said nothing, and the others would follow her unto death. 

Carlos and Evie adapted to Auradon without trying, subconsciously taking to the false-niceties of the court as ducks to water, as if they were born for it. They could’ve been, in another life, they _were_ bred for Auradon– for a life of luxury and decadence, but they’d been born to the Isle. It was in their bones, would never let them go. Mal and Jay took it worse; neither of them had much stomach for the pretty, unspoiled facade– they went right for the jugular, couldn’t stand any of this false-simpering and glittering lies. Their tempers were further soured by the tension blossoming within them, that bubble that had been expanding ever since they’d crossed the barrier, now threatening to burst, their blood writing within their veins, searing them from the inside out. Something was very, very wrong. 

Mal took it the hardest. She was the one bearing the brunt of the pressure, the _expectation_ , the _fear_ of failure. The others tried to support her, but they knew this was part of the toll of being the leader, so they let her be when she needed her space. She’d found that little spells took the edge off the writhing knot of _something_ slowly expanding within her, but that actually _using_ her power made that savage _thing_ stir and lash out, as it had the day after she’d marked Jay, and then again when she’d warded her people’s beds, paint in place of blood applied to the underside of the frames and headboards of the ones who were _hers_ , protecting them as an extension of her own will. 

She ended up spending a lot of time with Ben. He understood, even if it was unspoken between them. She knew he was a king before his time, not that that ever would’ve happened on the Isle, and he at least sensed that there was more to her than she let on. He was transfixed by her, and for all that she had abandoned her desire to claim him once she’d learnt his identity– it would be far too much of a risk– she couldn’t keep herself from _wanting_ , uneasy at the onset of emotions she dare not name. 

* * *

Coach supposed it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t realised how poorly socialised the children from the Isle were, he didn’t think anyone else had either, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Hearing Jay talk about competition on the Isle, realising that he wasn’t cruel he just _had never known anything else_. His comment about food– Coach resolved to keep a closer eye on the children around mealtimes, some of the things he’d heard about their behaviour suddenly making a horrible amount of sense. Delicate handling had never really been the Palmyran ginnayê’s forte, but if anyone deserved the effort it was these kids. 

“Jay! Let me explain a team–” and Jay, bless him, sat there and listened intently, something about his countenance giving the impression that he truly _was_ absorbing what the elder being of smokeless fire was telling him. Oh hell, Coach cursed, sudden realisation dawning, he’d accidentally become an authority figure to the kid hadn’t he?

* * *

Jay couldn’t hide his pride as he wore the uniform shirt back to the girls’ dorm, things suddenly making sense to him. Mal’s cadre was a kind of team wasn’t it? They used their individual strengths to the group’s advantage, had each other’s backs, _trusted_ each other for all that none of them would ever admit it. He wondered if others on the Isle had teams as well, if everyone was as good as they were at concealing how deep their alliances truly ran– but no, he himself habitually betrayed the fools who trusted him, no, this trust wasn’t a thing of the Isle, it was _theirs_. Jay had to share his realisation with them despite the _fear_ pressing against his throat, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth– but he forced them out around the sudden silence, all members of the cabal instinctively looking to their leader, to her reaction– but Mal simply carried on as if this was normal, as if her Second hadn’t come so, _so_ close to breaking the cardinal rule of survival on the Isle. Jay loved her for it. 

The sudden knock at the door was unexpected but despite the initial bolt of terror Jay felt confident, he knew the three around him would have his back, that together they were indomitable, and now he knew _why._

The arrival of Ben was less a shock than it probably should’ve been, Mal decided. She couldn’t help appreciating the earnest expression on his face, something within her softening at the sight. She resolutely refused to think about it, focussing instead on the target Ben unwittingly presented. It seemed she would get her chance at him after all.

* * *

  
  


As always when she was feeling… uneasy, Mal went to Jay. It had been the two of them that started this, the daughter of Maleficent and son of Jafar bound in the shedding of kindred blood. She was his leader, his Queen, and he her foundation, her Second. Her cabal had formed around the two of them. 

Mal had been– not afraid, but _wary_ at first as she slowly became increasingly certain that the very power in her blood was lashing out. Eventually she’d become accustomed to regularly draining the surplus power before it could overflow, instinctively knowing that she needed to keep it under wraps. A Queen had no weaknesses, but more than that, though she told herself she didn’t want to jeopardise their task she knew she didn’t want them to worry. Besides, it wasn’t long before the dozens of small, unnecessary spells were second nature. Dampened by the Barrier her left boot! 

He opened his arms without comment and she settled against his side, tucking her head against his chest. He began stroking the back of her neck with the pad of his thumb and her eyes drifted closed. She didn’t know what to say– do you ever think that these people might not be so bad? The very ones who had condemned them, had starved them, left them to rot? No, there would be no mercy for them. Sometimes I think I could learn to live here, as one of them? Sometimes I feel like I want to spare some of them, that they don’t deserve what’s to come? No, she could say none of these things, but Jay knew anyway. 

“That’ll just make everyone easier to fool”

“And the magick?” Jay ignored the way the lines on his back pulsed with her words, the feeling of chains constricting his insides suddenly a lot more prominent. He forced it away. He was Second, he would not allow himself to expose their cabal, to weaken their defences– whatever was brewing would either keep until they were less exposed, _safer_ relatively speaking, or it would dissipate. He allowed no other options, and the feeling _obeyed_.

* * *

It had been easy enough to once again gain access to the kitchens, moving silently through the twilit school. They’d experimented with cloaking spells enough to know that they’d hold until they reached the kitchens, and then Mal’s attention would need to be diverted to the love spell. Carlos worried that the group would become over-reliant on the arcane arts, what would happen when they returned to the Isle? But no, if all went according to plan the villains would be coming _here_ , and Mal needed as much practice as she could get to make sure they had an edge over their competitors. 

He supposed the fact that Lonnie was able to enter the kitchen unannounced was proof that they _were_ growing soft– _stupid, stupid_ Carlos cursed himself– instantly on edge at the surprise intrusion. Subtly he inched a hand towards the knife strapped against the small of his back, eyes wild as the Auradonian girl casually waltzed into the room, seemingly unaware that she was entering the presence of four lethal predators. The food, she was here for the food! Carlos had to admit it was a good act, rambling on about Mal’s hair spell as she approached Mal and Evie. Nothing at all about her posture or behaviour indicated she was a danger as she got closer and closer to the bowl containing the spelled batter. A lifetime of survival by deceit enabled Carlos to keep his face blank, though his posture radiated vicious intent, his every instinct screaming to get her out of here, to _fight_ to preserve his right to the food in this room. Lonnie slid her finger through the batter and Carlos half lunged forward, seeing Jay do the same beside him. But though Mal and Evie reached out they didn’t attack and Carlos suddenly realised. Of course, they had already hidden dozens of caches of food in their rooms and about the grounds, though Lonnie’s presence here was a threat to their _supply_ the most important matter right now was the spell. 

Their relief when she moved away from the mixture and towards the row of safes was palpable and they didn’t bother to contain it, most of the tension in their frames dissipating as they sagged in relief, watching the girl withdraw a bowl of small chocolate pieces. And then Lonnie was talking about their parents and it all suddenly made sense. It had been a mistake to underestimate the daughter of Mulan, she wasn’t presenting a physical attack, she was aiming much lower than that. He felt panic closing in around his throat, eyes growing unfocused as a sudden haze seeped up his vision. He hunched in on himself, needing to make himself a smaller target, desperate to find some way to distract her–

“Even villains love their kids”

And Jay wanted to lash out at her, to punish her for the panic clawing through Carlos’ body, the fear fuelling Mal’s determination, the way Evie was collapsing in on herself, the surge of bile in his own throat– but that would reveal that what she had said had an _impact_ on them, so he did nothing though his insides _wretched_ and _burned_. He couldn’t stop himself from drawing his arms in tight around himself, feeling Jafar’s hands on his skin, remembering the bruises, the harsh scrape of his roughened grip, the _pain_ , the blood when Mal had found him–

When Mal’s hand darted forwards Evie thought her leader was going to strike the daughter of Mulan. She hadn’t even noticed the tear glistening against Lonnie’s cheek until Mal was flicking it into the mixture and forcing her _out_ , the rest of them quick to cover their momentary lapse, to act as if nothing had happened. Oh. Oh. Had Lonnie truly not realised how life was on the Isle, had been upset _for_ them? But Evie couldn’t _understand_ it so it had to be a trick, a poorly executed attempt at manipulation. She put the thought out of her mind, along with the feel of the biting chemicals her mother had used to stain her skin raw, the way Mother would love her, surely, if only she was pretty enough, evil enough, able to get the prince her mother so desired–

Evie cut off the train of thought viciously, returning to the precise alchemical creation they were forging. If she stirred the mixture a little harder than strictly necessary than that was no ones business but her own. 


	4. and live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down

“Are you feeling kind of weird about this?” it was Jay, leaning up against the row of lockers beside her, “I mean it’s not _so_ bad here”. No, it wasn’t. But they couldn’t just abandon their parents, what they would do to them if they failed, _worse_ if they turned their backs on their commands– Mal had always felt the need to protect what was _hers_ in her bones, knew it was her very nature as Fae, even her mother felt it, though her possession was cruel and selfish above all. Mal could not condone a course of action that would bring harm to what was hers, to her cabal, and she wasn’t strong enough to protect them from the wrath of the worst villains on the Isle. 

“Are you insane? You’re mean, you’re awful, you’re bad news” she frowned, _willing_ Jay to hear what she couldn’t say. She knew he wouldn’t allow his doubts to jeopardise the safety of Carlos, or Evie… he just hadn’t realised what even a moments hesitation on their parts could mean for them. “Snap out of it”. Jay’s face cleared, uncertainty fading away and it wasn’t a mask– they’d been able to read each other for years now– so she knew he understood 

“Thanks Mal, I needed that” he grinned, crooked and beautiful and she smirked at him, waving him off as Ben and Audrey grew closer, her Second finding a way to appear busy while still being close at hand in case she needed him. Mal was going to enjoy this. 

“She did it to Jane’s hair too and–”

“What’s the harm?” Ben shrugged. It was good to see Mal using her power for good, in a way that made those around her happy, and it wasn’t as if the girls hadn’t been going to her and _asking_ for it. 

“It’s _gateway magic_ ” the Prince frowned, was Audrey right? Would Mal’s power only grow until it one day consumed her, addicted to dark majick and instinctively bent towards evil? But no, people could _choose_ who they were going to be, and he’d spent enough time around Mal, around _all_ the Isle kids by now, to know that in their souls they were _good_. Besides, he’d seen Mal make the four of them _disappear_ the other day when Evie was getting stressed. He didn’t think her powers were _growing_ with the way she’d begun to use them. But of course he’d overestimated Audrey’s concern, she didn’t care about _Mal’s soul_ , only herself. “Sure it starts with the hair, next thing you know it’s the lips, and the legs, and the clothes, and then everybody looks good and then where will I be?”. Ben had had enough, he couldn’t believe how _vain_ the princess was, how self centered. He knew it was wrong of him to use them as a comparison, as a negative benchmark, but _even the villains’ kids_ cared more about others than Audrey, no matter how they tried to hide it. Instead of seeing the idea of everyone ‘looking good’ as a _good thing_ she saw it as a detraction to herself, and if Ben hadn’t been certain before that he wanted to end things with her this would’ve been it. 

“Look Audrey,” he was going to do it now, before the Tourney game, wanting nothing more in that instant than her _gone_. She didn’t even care about _him_ , only Prince Benjamin, Future King of Auradon, only her own shot at being Queen.

“I will see you at the game after my dress fitting for the coronation okay?” She cut him off, words purposeful and precise, as if she were speaking to an errant child. “Bye Benny-boo”. And then she was gone, foiling yet another chance for him to make a clean break of it. He sighed, frustration mounting along with the feeling of _uselessness_ inside of him. He hated it. He was meant to be a king wasn’t he? So why couldn’t he manage to keep from being outmaneuvered in what should be a simple conversation? 

Ben turned when Mal spoke, almost successful at hiding whatever it was eating him up inside. His smile was like looking into the sun. 

“I just made a batch of cookies, double chocolate chip, you want one?”

“I’ve got a big game,” he apologised, backing away, likely trying to get out of there– most likely so he could allow himself to stop hiding whatever emotion was consuming him, not that he was doing very well against someone as honed in deception as any child of the Isle “I don’t usually eat before a big game, but thank you so so much, thank you, next time”. It was a good act, she’d give him that, likely a skill he’d needed as Prince, but still, he was from Auradon, born and bred, and she’d been manipulating much harder targets since she could talk. She pointedly didn’t acknowledge the way her chest seemed to fall as he ignored her, obviously wanting nothing to do with the purple haired demi-Fae. 

“Yeah, I completely understand, be careful of treats offered by kids of Villains, I’m sure every kid in Auradon knows that”. He was protesting already, and Mal had no trouble keeping up the facade of a ‘brave face’ despite feigned hurt. “No I get it, you’re cautious, that’s smart”. She was manipulating him sure but it was true, the daughter of Maleficent respected his hesitation. So few in Auradon knew what was good for them, throwing her off-balance with their openness, this at least, was something she knew. And then he was snatching the cookie from her hand exactly as she’d planned it, biting into it.

“See that? Totally trust you”. The demi-Fae ignored the thrill that seized her at his words, reminding herself that it _wasn’t real_. She turned her focus instead to Carlos and Evie’s approach. 

And then Jay was there, Mal fighting to keep the smirk off her face as he sidled up to the Prince. The son of Jafar let the grin blossom on his face, slightly tinged with smug evil. He knew exactly how the Auradonian Prince felt, like Mal was the centre of his universe, the sun and star around which he orbited. 

* * *

Despite his resolution to stop under-estimating the villain kids Coach couldn’t help his reluctance as Jay told him to put Carlos on, despite the boy’s own hesitance. But he couldn’t say no in the face of the elder boy’s insistence, seeing the way Jay had earnestly taken onboard his advice.

“Jay I’m not that good” Carlos protested, something like dread congealing behind his ribs. They weren’t meant to be revealing his own strength and agility, he was meant to be downplaying it– and judging by the look on Coach’s face it’d been working! So what was Jay playing at? Carlos wanted to say no, wanted to _stick to the plan_ , but one look at the older boy’s face had him relenting. He mightn’t want to do this but damn if he would ever leave Jay stranded. 

Mal grinned as she watched Carlos and Jay take to the field, pride welling within her, plan sidelined for the moment. Later she’d worry about how Jay had betrayed her orders, for the second time now, later she’d remember Evie’s worried look– but for now she was simply _proud_ watching the men that were hers show off. She wanted to watch them prove wrong everything anyone from Auradon had ever said about them.

* * *

Jay hadn’t consciously _meant_ to set Ben up for the winning goal. That _thing_ in his blood that he consciously refused to address had welled with the adrenalin in his body, _tension_ in his viscera taking over, clouding his head– he’d been aware of Carlos’ presence by his side, more distantly Evie in the stands beside Mal, his lodestone as always. He’d simply recognised Ben as another person who was _important_ , another one of _Mal’s_ , and acted from there. He wondered where the feeling had come from– was it a side effect of the spell? From Mal’s own magick? Or from Jay himself? But that didn’t matter, conscious mind returning from _somewhere_ as that electric feeling surging along his skin slowed and faded, heart-rate gently slackening. He shook what felt like sand out of his gloves, not bothering to look down. Later, that was a problem for later, he decided, finally realising that he had betrayed the plan, that the marks on his shoulder were _burning_. He signalled to Carlos to watch the situation here and disappeared into the locker room as Ben began publicly declaring himself for Mal. 


	5. just not for long, for long

“Mal I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“I’m not mad at you Jay” she soothed, stroking the nape of his neck, his head buried in her shoulder. 

“And the trophy–”

“Yours Jay, it’s yours. You’ll keep it”. She’d seen his happiness when Coach had handed him the MVP trophy. If she could manage to do one bloody thing when they burned Auradon to the ground he’d keep his trophy, by the magick in her blood he’d keep it, even if it was hollow and worthless with the ashes of their victory. He was shaking in her grip and Mal's chest thrummed with possessive pride, green embers trailing off her fingers as she carded them through his hair. He was hers, this beautiful unwavering blood-of-her-blood was _hers_ , her Second, and she’d do anything for what was hers. 

* * *

“Chad did _what?_ ” Mal snarled, practically wreathed in emerald flames. 

“No Mal it’s okay, Doug stepped in when Deley said he was going to recommend they expel me, got him to agree to wait until _after_ I sat the test.”

The son of Dopey fought to keep from shuddering as Mal turned her jade green gaze towards him, trepidation coiling up his spine as the demi-Fae rested her attention on him. He suddenly felt out of place in the dorm room with the four VKs, uneasy with the abrupt knowledge that the four were probably the most dangerous people in the school. 

“He said _what?_ ” Jay snapped, half-rising from his seat “I’ll-” Doug spoke up, cutting him off.

“You don’t think Evie can pass on her own?” Mal blinked, honestly perplexed by the question.

“No, of course not. Evie’s smarter than any of these Auradon princesses combined” that was _obvious_. 

“It’s cause Chad interfered with what’s hers,” Carlos explained “he has to pay.”

“And he’s going to,” Evie said firmly, with a significant glance towards Doug “but not in any way that’s underhanded.”

“Of course not,” Jay grinned, unaware of the crimson sensation unfurling inside him, expression showing far more teeth than was polite “he’s going to get exactly what he deserves, in the most civilised way possible.”

“It seems I owe you a debt, Doug Dwarf-son” Mal said, green sparking along her fingers, and Carlos grinned at the teen’s clueless expression. People had killed for less, on the Isle.

* * *

“Are you afraid of her?”

“Sometimes. Are you afraid of your mum?”

“I just want her to be proud of me, she gets so angry when I disappoint her”

* * *

One thing Mal hadn’t anticipated was how much she enjoyed Ben’s company. Maybe she would keep him around when their parents took over the world. 

“A crown doesn’t make you a king”

“Well it kinda does.” She couldn’t relate to his woes. Only in Auradon did a crown come without a fight. In order to be a ruler on the Isle you had to _earn it_ , and that made it yours. Her own crown had been won with violence and blood; her mother would be holding it for her, now, but she would have to assert herself when she returned, would have to prove herself worthy. She would do it, for herself and her cabal– but Ben went on. 

“Your mother is Mistress of Evil, and I’ve got the poster parents for goodness” he didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. Neither of their parents were what they once were, Maleficent was _powerful_ sure, but constrained, and Beast had _made_ the Isle, shaped it into what it was. “We’re not automatically like them, we get to choose who we’re going to be. And right now, I can look into your eyes and I can tell you’re not evil.” She couldn’t hold his gaze, fear cloying in her lungs, closing her throat. 

Instead, Mal turned her attention to the picnic. She devoured the food, fascinated by the firm texture of the strawberries here. She’d heard that they were meant to be red but had never seen them as anything but dark and soggy, occasionally flecked with a white patch of mould. It wasn’t until later that she realised Ben had disappeared. It would be the perfect trap, distract her with food and then abandon her, lost in the forest. Already she could feel the trees’ attention on her, looming over her. She didn’t belong, they were going to judge her, find her unworthy! Panic seized her and she startled, head spinning. Ben, he’d left her here, exposed and trapped! She respected him, even as the roaring in her blood eclipsed her thoughts, she couldn’t hear herself think! 

The water rippled– Ben! She leapt into the clear liquid, feeling it dragging her under, trees glaring down at her. He saved her, tried to bribe her with some trinket! She snarled at him, fangs glinting. 

At first Ben hadn’t noticed the change when the water washed the spell away from his mind. His feelings for Mal had been real, were real, and it hurt to think that she’d abused his trust. But why? She’d mentioned the crown, was this a bid to be Queen, like Audrey had wanted? Mal didn’t seem like the type, but then she didn’t seem like the type to bewitch him either, and she had. He could already hear his parents and all the others criticising him, scorning his decision– didn’t she know how this would reflect on her, on her friends? He knew they’d do almost anything to avoid going back to the Isle, and he himself had wanted– still wanted to keep the four as far away as possible– so why had she tied his hands like this, doomed them to being sent back?

“I don’t know what love feels like”. The look on her face broke his heart, and he ached to reach out to her, suddenly understanding why she’d done it. She’d never known anything different, didn’t know how to express her feelings. She’d clammed up when he’d put words to her selfless actions, something like fear shining in her eyes, and he realised how such a thing would’ve been viewed by villains. Just what had happened to the Isle kids to make them act the way they did, there was more to it than ignorance of social interaction– the way Carlos flinched when someone raised their voice, Evie’s perfectionism to the point of breakdown, Jay’s bluster… it all suddenly coalesced into a suspicion that made his stomach turn. So he was ernest when he replied–

“Maybe I can teach you.” 

* * *

“Doug c’mon” Carlos grinned, holding out one of the batons to Dopey’s son. “Your turn.” 

“Guys!” he yelped, protesting as Jay manhandled him over to the console. “I don’t know how to do this!”

“Relax bro, I’ll teach you.” Ben watched in amazement as Jay closed Doug’s hands around the game controls, showing him how to throw a punch, Carlos calling out advice as to when the weedy Auradonian should duck. If Ben hadn’t already realised that Carlos was much more athletic than he let on he would’ve been gobsmacked watching the younger boy soar through the levels, no less skilled than Jay. Was this something all VKs knew? His eyes drifted over to Evie, needle balanced between her teeth as she glared at the pool of fabric in her lap. He had no problem imagining her gouging it deep into someone’s eye. The sinking feeling he’d come to associate with uncomfortable realisations regarding life on the Isle rose again, and not for the first time he was glad for how the four teens had relaxed around him now that they believed he was spelled, as if he was suddenly _safe_ when they thought he would never betray them, betray Mal. It let him notice things they never would have allowed him to see before, and Ben soon realised that he’d underestimated just how dreadfully they’d been raised– Mal, all of them, didn’t not know how to express their feelings, they didn’t know how to _have_ feelings that weren’t hatred, anger or fear. They certainly would never put _words_ to anything they felt, communicating with a series of direct statements that seemed to imply something _else_ and vague partial-truths, he could barely follow it and had taken to looking deeper, to their instincts, which revealed how much they truly _cared_. He wished he could speak to Fairy Godmother about it all, but knew as soon as he did that he’d permanently raze any trust they had in him. He settled for quietly putting some bills in motion that would look into the situation on the Isle, surely _all_ the kids didn’t live like this, right?

But what Ben couldn’t figure out was why they were so comfortable around _Doug_. Had Evie spelled him too? He’d been concerned enough that he’d thought to test him for enchantments, but the son of Dopey wasn’t _acting_ as if he’d been bewitched. So Ben had settled for simply asking him when the VKs had become so relaxed in his presence. 

“It was the strangest thing,” Doug said as the two of them left Carlos and Jay’s room, pretending to believe that the girls would be heading to their own dorm at all tonight. “The whole lot of them were so standoffish until about a week ago when Evie was caught, eh, accused of cheating on a test and I got Mr Deley to agree to see if she could pass on her own, because if she could then she obviously hadn’t been cheating. Went back to their, uh, Carlos and Jay’s room afterwards and they were, well scary doesn’t begin to cover it, but Mal said she _owed_ me, and after that _they_ were seeking _me_ out”. 

“Do you ever get the feeling that things are really bad on the Isle?” the look Doug gave him was unyielding, and the Prince had never seen that expression on the easy-going teen’s face before.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” 


	6. sometimes the only payoff for having any faith, is when it’s tested again and again every day

Mal quickly found that she did not, in fact, like being underestimated. People looked at Evie like she was worthless, nothing more than a pretty face; Jay like he was only a dumb lug instead of the sole son of the most conniving man in history; Carlos like he needed coddling; and Mal herself like she was an explosive on an unknown timer. She didn't understand these people in Auradon, they _laughed_ when she gave in and actually threatened them, yet reacted to inane gestures as if she had leapt upon them with a knife– there was no rhyme nor reason to them!

“Why”. Ben laughed, used to this particular quirk in his girlfriend by now. He didn’t understand _why_ she habitually made questions into statements with no context or preamble, but that didn’t matter. 

“Gonna need a bit more than that, Mal”

“You people here wouldn’t know a threat if it bit you in the ass” he frowned at her language and she allowed one corner of her lips to creep upwards a degree, just enough to reveal her amusement to anyone that cared to pay attention. And that was another thing about the people in Auradon! No one seemed to notice microscopic changes in expression, either they were phenomenal actors (unlikely, she was from the _Isle_ ) or they truly were blind! Mal waved her hands in the air, trying and failing to express the feeling of impotent confusion eating at her. She let her hands fall to her sides when it became clear that the words wouldn’t come, and they did need words here, for _everything_. 

“You need words for everything here” she said, huffing. 

Ben just laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. His eyes snagged on her locker, once more covered with spray paint. 

“You really should look into art class you know” he didn’t want it to sound like a rebuke, but she picked up on the disapproving undertone regardless. He sighed, giving in and trying to explain. “You shouldn’t be doing this here, we’re not meant–”

Mal blinked, tilting her head and allowing the confusion to show on her face. They had said it was _hers_ so why wouldn’t she claim it?

“They said it was mine” again, not a question. 

“Yes Mal,” the Prince huffed, amused despite himself, “it’s yours”. But the daughter of Maleficent remained confused, and Ben simply let her be. Some things mattered less than others. 

  
  


* * *

Jay should’ve known that anything Auradon described as a ‘special treat’ was going to sting. When Fairy Godmother announced that their parents would be able to contact them he felt like he was going to be sick, suddenly having to struggle to force down the explosion of feeling surging with the vein of bile burning up his throat. He was glad that the electric feeling under his skin had driven him to braid his hair this morning, reassured by the feel of it against the nape of his neck, simple coil keeping it up and out of his way. This felt like a fight. 

No one was moving, and Fairy Godmother had to urge them out of their seats and towards the screen. Mal was the first to rise, followed by Evie. She hated herself for every step that took her closer to their visage, for not being strong enough to turn tail and run, to drive Evie and Carlos and Jay before her and get them all _away_. But her mother didn’t even have to tug on that band of power binding her to the Fae’s will, her daughter was well-trained. 

Maleficent’s shriek as she caught sight of her daughter had them all wincing, Carlos fighting the urge to disappear into his own head. Mal, his leader, she needed him here, needed him– but he couldn’t keep his vision solid, everything blurring before his eyes as he felt Cruella’s gaze on him, as he waited for the next blow to land. He was only distantly aware of Mal and Evie jostling in front of him, keeping him mostly obscured from view, of Jay by his side– 

“Yes I completely understand Mother” and she did. Whatever doubts any of them had been having needed to disappear instantly, she would not allow her cabal to suffer the consequences of failure. 

“Carlos is that a _dog_?” Jay’s eyes shuttered as dread bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t been able to protect him, couldn’t protect any of them– Cruella would butcher the creature that her son cared about, would beat him with bloody hands– she’d throw him in with the rabid pack again, wouldn’t let him out until he’d slit them open, killed them with a knife that was never sharp enough– 

He didn’t notice when Carlos stepped past him, clutching tightly to the dog, _defending_ it– no, Carlos rarely ever– he was going to be punished, they all were– it was Jay’s job to protect them– 

Carlos was angry, Jay could see the rage burning behind the younger boy’s eyes, but it was anger borne of fear and the son of Jafar pulled him back, clinging tightly to his shoulder. He wasn’t thinking, _none_ of them were, this was unexpected, they weren’t prepared– he knew his face was too expressive, was showing his fear– his father was yelling at Cruella now, he couldn’t keep himself from cringing, waiting for his father to turn to him, to reach out with those burning hands– 

Jay darted forward and killed the video just as Evie began to quail, eyes shining with tears that she would never shed. He had to get them out of here, get them somewhere safe. Mal hadn’t said a word since she’d sworn to get the wand, and Jay knew they all needed to get somewhere defensible before their leader broke down. 

“I’m so sorry” 

“Thanks for the special treat” he said, in a way that should’ve sounded venomous but didn’t. Mal turned and left without a word, face impassive as lifeless marble. 

“M, what do you think our parents are going to do to us if we don’t pull this off?”

* * *

Ben stared at the closed oak door of Jay and Carlos’ room. No one had answered when he’d knocked, but he knew they had to be in here. It had taken him longer than he was comfortable with to notice that they were missing, but as soon as he had he’d come here. For some reason this had become their sanctuary, and as unorthodox as it was for girls to be in the boys dorms none of the staff had noticed yet, and Ben wasn’t about to call them on it.

“Don’t even try,” Doug advised. He’d noticed their absence sooner than Ben had it seemed, and had taken to sitting on the carpet across from the door while the Prince paced “I asked around and no one’s seen them since Remedial Goodness. They’re not coming out”

“They missed lunch” while that wasn’t unusual normally everyone knew the four kids from the Isle were downright _vicious_ when it came to food, every day without fail had found the four first in line waiting for the cafeteria doors to open, hardly pausing to breathe as they shovelled down whatever they could get their hands on, staying for the entirety of the lunch period. On separate occasions both Carlos and Mal had drawn knives when they’d been interrupted, and Jay had nearly launched himself at the server who’d come to clear their trays. No one had known what to make of it, and had given them a wide berth ever since. Ben was ashamed of how long it had taken him to realise that it had to be something to do with their upbringing, and not a manifestation of their innate wickedness as most thought. Had their parents starved them?

“I know, something’s very wrong”. 

“Mal are you in there?” 

“I told you, don’t bother”

“That’s it” Ben snapped, worried and unable to cope with inaction. He reached for the door handle. 

“Wait, don’t!” Doug protested, reaching out as if to stop the Prince. But it was too late, he inched open the door and there was a beat of nothingness before a wave of green threw him backwards, hurling the Prince bodily against the wall. “It’s warded,” the son of Dopey said a moment later, rather unnecessarily, as Ben slid down to join him on the floor. 

  
  


* * *

They had allowed themselves a single day to grieve and guard each other, settled deep in the boys dorm, more defensible since the magic Mal had expended during her accidental marking of Jay had permeated the room, spread out on the mattresses that had been dragged onto the floor and cocooned in a nest of blankets. Mal had held Evie’s hair as the girl had thrown up everything she’d managed to coax down, Carlos pressing a strawberry into her hand before she’d had to look twice at the sick pooled around her. The three of them holding him down when he thrashed and screamed during the night, desperate to get out of the closet he wasn’t in.

No one mentioned their absence when they finally emerged, tense and highly strung. Despite the worried glances that Ben and Doug couldn’t conceal from them Carlos was sure that no one else had even noticed, and he was glad that no one confronted them about it. It wouldn’t do for someone to put out the eyes of whoever was fool enough to comment, not when they were this close to nabbing the wand. 

* * *

Jay eased himself out of bed, restless, too uneasy to sleep. He had intended to train, to work his body until his mind was silenced and he dropped, exhausted. But his gaze caught on the tourney trophy, mind unable to let go of what it represented. He’d done _good,_ people had noticed, had looked at him with admiration and without a hint of fear, people had wanted to be around him. His cabal had been _proud_ of him. He glanced at Carlos, but the boy was awake, so Jay had no qualms leaving him for the night. 

A quick survey of the girl’s room found them both asleep, Evie clutching her chemistry results close to her chest– proof that she was allowed to be smart, to have interests. She’d have to give it up when she returned to her mother. He slipped into bed beside Mal, unconscious demi-Fae uncurling to wrap herself around him, fisting her hands in his hair. He let his mind settle. He was her Second, and what she demanded he would provide unto death. That was all that mattered. 


	7. I’m still comparing your past to my future

Family day, Evie soon decided, was a farce. It was something they hadn’t anticipated, yet were determined to make the best of. The chocolate fountain didn’t hurt, and despite the swarm of new people they were in moderately familiar surrounds, thanks to her dressed up enough that they didn’t automatically stand out as outsiders. The princess tentatively allowed herself to believe that this was going to be a good day. 

Ben couldn’t help grinning as he joined his parents before the photographer, feeling a little evil himself as he ‘casually’ brought up that he’d finally gotten free of Audrey. He’d always hated these portraits, and it felt good to ruin one of them. 

“Oh and by the way, I have a new girlfriend”

“I never wanted to say anything but I always thought that Audrey was a little self-absorbed, fake smile, kind of a kiss up”. Bless his mother, at least, for not caring about the implications of her royal pedigree. 

“Do we know your new girlfriend?” and his father, having the tact to only _imply_ rather than ask her parentage. Ben was going to enjoy this. 

“Sort of” he replied, delighting in the way the photographer unwittingly captured the moment, his coprophagous grin framed by his parent’s shock. 

As always Jay kept subconscious track of the locations and situations surrounding his cabal– Carlos with Dude and King Beast, Evie actually getting along with Queen Belle, Mal waiting for her turn at croquet. The game was more challenging than Jay would’ve expected, and the son of Jafar found himself enjoying it, grinned as Ben congratulated him on his shot, momentarily letting himself relax and his attention slacken from his cabal. He didn’t notice the approach of queen Leah until it was too late. 

It took Ben but a moment to be by Mal’s side, confident he could diffuse the situation. He had seen that the children from the Isle were not their parents, his parents were slowly defrosting to the idea– surely others could also see past the prejudices of the past. 

Jay’s mind was blank as he listened to Leah rail against Mal, caught on the inane thought that he hadn’t braided his hair, that this hadn’t felt like a fight. _Stupid, stupid! He should’ve known better than to allow himself to trust Auradon._

And then Chad is there, shoving himself into Mal’s space and Jay is moving– they’re all moving, but Ben is closest, and the first one to put himself protectively in front of Mal. Jay hadn’t been gladder for the love spell than in this moment, he didn’t care that it was their key to getting the wand, to destroying the Barrier and burning Auradon to the ground, all it meant was that there was another body between his Queen and anyone who would do her harm. 

Ben was frantic, panic clawing up his throat– he has to convince Chad to back down, he _has_ to warn him not to do this because he knows the villain’s kids by now, he _knows_ that they don’t _understand_ non-violent confrontation and that wouldn’t help anything. He doesn’t know he wouldn’t side with them.

“They were raised by their parents Ben, what do you think Villains teach their kids?” the Prince has to resist the urge to snarl, feeling the echoes of his father’s curse stir where he’d long stowed them away. He’s beginning to see _exactly_ what the Villains on the Isle are teaching their kids, and it’s hurting them far more than it could hurt Auradon. It’s certifiable _abuse_! And then Chad is accusing Mal of _stealing him_ and he can’t help arcing up because Mal didn’t plan on that, she’d spelled him yes but that was _him_ , it had been his choice, he’d wanted to break up with Audrey long before the VKs had come from the Isle and even under the spell he’d been _lucid_. But he never got a chance to say any of it, because Chad was telling Jay that he enjoyed hurting people and it was so blatantly untrue that Ben wanted to lunge at him, but Chad kept talking, hurting Ben’s friends in a way that was much deeper than he could see. And then the younger Prince Charming went too far. Chad lashed out at Evie, laying his hands on her, and Jay was in motion before anyone could blink. Ben was itching to be by their side, to be putting himself in Chad’s path, but he needed to deescalate the situation, struggling to force Jay _back_. 

The Prince couldn’t help but be proud of Evie as she used a potion to knock Chad out, because he knew about the knife she kept strapped to her thigh under that short tulle dress (she’d pulled it one day to cut a thread off his sleeve), and knew she was itching to slide it home between Chad’s ribs but instead chose moderation. It just didn’t help that no one else would see it that way. His distraction allowed them to flee, and he didn’t bother following. He knew they wouldn’t want him anywhere near them, and crossing them right now was likely to earn him more than a few bruises from a collision with a wall. 

“I feared something like this would happen”

“This isn’t their fault”

“No son, it’s yours”. The unfairness of it all loomed over him, threatening to swallow him as his mother followed his father with only a backwards glance. 

* * *

The hope that bloomed when Doug approached her flamed and died as Chad challenged him, called him out in front of everyone, and the shy boy she had come to care for backed down, abandoning her for the Auradonian peers that had picked on him all his life. His rejection sunk into her like the acids and powders her mother forced onto her skin, and dimly Evie was aware that she’d say it hurt less. She’d take the corrosive burn of a dozen arcane potions if only Doug would stop looking at her like that. 

And then Jane and Audrey were gloating over them, only it didn’t make _sense_. Ben couldn’t make Mal a queen, she was _already_ a Queen, and no one could rule without earning it. When Mal took Jane’s hair it wasn’t even a _threat_ , it was a _consequence_. She had _given_ that to the other girl, and it was her right to take it away. None of the VKs understood why the other Auradon girls shrieked and grasped their own hair, the styles weren’t _theirs_ , the magic was _Mal’s_ , she had the right to remove it if they didn’t have the strength to keep it. 

  
When Doug turned away from Evie, scorned the woman he had thought the son of Dopey _loved_ , Ben felt something crack in his soul, because this was his kingdom and his people who were acting like this. He couldn’t help but feel as if they were pushing the VKs towards evil (and they might even deserve it, if only the four wouldn’t suffer). He didn’t say anything when the trio followed Mal, falling into regimented step around her. He hadn’t realised how much they had relaxed since their arrival until he saw again how they had walked at the beginning, rigid and purposeful, as if they were surrounded by enemies and every motion had to be weighed and calculated.


	8. it might be your wound, but they’re my sutures

There was a question hanging in the air. _Are we really going to do this?_ But no one gave it voice, wouldn’t even if the Isle hadn’t viscerally beaten out of them the ability to leave themselves open like that. Mal had rescinded no orders, to question their course of action was to question her, and she was their leader. Carlos knew that the others had had doubts, knew that they had warmed to life in Auradon, a life of relative _safety_ , a life of _trust_. But watching their _friends_ pull away from them yesterday had turned all that on its head, Evie was scorned and out for blood, despite the ache in her heart, Jay was tightly wound and vicious, ready to lash out at those who had hurt those that were _his_ through Mal, his to protect. But Carlos wasn’t wounded by their rejection. The son of Cruella hadn’t allowed himself to stray from their purpose here, hadn’t allowed the apparent kindness of Auradon to soften his resolve. He knew what the end goal was– no matter how soft the beds were here, a guilt cage was still a prison. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like on the Isle, and being here didn’t mean that there weren’t dozens of other kids on the streets on the Isle, as if the _streets_ were safer than their ‘homes’. He’d been one of them, once, before he became Mal’s and thus untouchable. It didn’t matter if bringing the villains here would only make Auradon into a second Isle, it wouldn’t change the state of those kids suffering on the streets, only increase the number of bodies piling up alongside fetid alleyways. It didn’t matter, it _didn’t_. His one regret was Dude, the dog who was neither rabid nor vicious, who was certainly a pack animal, but who had seemingly decided _Carlos_ was his pack. He wanted to protect the creature, didn’t want to feel his dog’s throat spill over his hands, but he knew Cruella would order it, and he didn’t know if he had it in him to disobey. Evie would probably do it for him, if he asked, Mal certainly would, but he didn’t know if he could forgive them for it, even if he were the one asking. Standing up to Cruella had been easy when she was on the Isle and he was here, he hadn’t even realised what he was doing at the time. She’d make him pay for that, he knew, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Maybe he could hide the dog somewhere? But nowhere would be safe once the villains descended on Auradon with the madness of death that couldn’t stick. That too was Auradon’s fault, even if he no longer believed they all deserved this, there was nothing to do about it now. Retribution needed to be paid, and they would take it in blood. 

* * *

All eyes were on them and Mal could have ignored it all as she sat by Ben’s side, if not for the winking glare of the cameras that assured her their parents, her mother, were watching. Electricity was patchy at best on the Isle, but if there was one thing that always got through it was official broadcasts from Auradon. 

“Don’t be nervous”. Her magick simmered under her skin, riled by her nerves, just waiting for the opportunity to lash out. Ben’s words only made her feel worse, and she remembered what he’d said yesterday– _tomorrow after the coronation I promise everything will be okay_ – but nothing was ever going to be okay again. She hated herself for caring, and handed him the spelled cupcake she had made, telling herself that she was allowed this one selfless act, that it shouldn’t feel like a betrayal. Ben eats it straight away and her heart almost stops, not because it will ruin the plan (although that is her second concern) but because she hadn’t counted on being there, on seeing the desolation on his face. She couldn’t watch the love in his eyes fade, she _couldn’t_.

“Let’s give the anti-love potion a few minutes to take effect”. It took Mal a second, but once she realised– 

“So then what, you’ve just been faking it since then?”. She said faking it but she meant _toying with me_ and as much as it hurt she _respects_ him for it. In answer Ben slides the ring onto her finger and for the first time she isn’t doing the claiming but is being claimed and her fae blood _sings._ She can’t do this.

* * *

Evie had banished all doubt from her mind. It was too late now, Mal was in position, and she and the boys had to be ready to back her up when she made her move. She didn’t dwell on the way Doug had looked at her, how he would see her when the villains reigned hell down upon Auradon. Instead she forced herself to focus on how _good_ it felt to have dressed them all to perfection, to have _succeeded_ at something, at combining beauty and functionality in a way even her mother would be proud of– to see Jay with intricate loops of braid hugging his scalp, lifting his hair up out of the way in readiness for the oncoming fight, eyes lined dark with kohl and a wicked and beautiful twist to his lips; and Carlos dressed to play to his strengths, his agility, somehow looking respectable despite keeping legs free to move. They were going to pull this off, there was no other option. 

Jay sees Mal’s face when Ben approaches the dais. He’s her Second, the two of them bound by blood and ancient rite. He knows in an instant that she isn’t going to do it, purposely ignoring the overwhelming flood of relief instantly eclipsed by icy cold fear. He’ll back her play, to whatever end.

* * *

Mal watches as Fairy Godmother crowns Ben, stalling for as long as possible, telling herself that she’s waiting for the opportune moment. The sudden realisation that she hasn’t moved because she doesn’t want to is almost enough to scare her into motion, but instead she looks up at her cabal, seeking reassurance, and her eyes catch on Jay’s face. He knows she isn’t going to do it, probably knew before she herself did, and he’s going to defend her unto death regardless. That's the way it always had been, always would be. There will be consequences, this will probably mean their deaths, but for the first time she’s able to think about the repercussions without fear. That they will suffer, and they will die, but they will be _free_. It’s probably the most selfish decision she’s ever made.

Jane grabs the wand and it rebels against her, practically taunting Mal to _take it_ , but she doesn’t want it, doesn’t want this! And then Ben’s in front of her and her heart’s screaming because he’s in harm’s way _for her_ and she loves him. She loves him she loves him she loves him. And her dragons’ blood _roars_. 

The realisation that no one’s going to step up, that they’re all too afraid of out of control magic, is a distant one, and Mal can barely hear herself think over the cacophony in her blood as she darts forward, and it’s easy _so easy_ to overpower Jane without hurting her and then the wand’s in her hand and she’s trying not to _scream_ as the magic that’s been festering under her skin, the vicious edge barely blunted and constrained by hundreds of little spells, surges free and she feels like she’s burning burning burning. The air around her feels too tight against her skin, her eyes are distant and she can’t _focus_ because she can see _everything_ and she feels water running over smooth rocks and roots encased in dirt and trees bending under a shifting wind in a place she has never been but that her blood _craves_. The moors, it has to be the moors, and they’re _claiming_ her. She doesn’t notice her eyes flare with burning green, the clawed tilt to her fingernails and the shadowy impression of impressive horns suddenly wreathing her head, but everyone else does. 

At once Ben’s in front of her and he needs to stand back because she can’t _control_ it, can’t control the majick _screaming_ within her, and she won’t let herself hurt him but she _can’t stop this_. They’re looking at her with fear and she doesn’t care because she can barely even see them, she can feel the wind around her, dirt below her, rocks beneath claws and the open sky that’s calling her. 

Her cadre is at her back and she needs one of them to pull the wand from her hands, _needs it_ because she can’t _control this_ and she would never hurt any of them, they’re _hers_. 

“Your parents made their choice, now you make yours” and the wind in the glen in her head and soul _howls_ because she _wants this._ So she _takes it_. 

“I think I want to be good. I don’t want to take over the world with evil. I choose good”. And there is an honest moment where she thinks they’re going to reject her, and fear threatens to overwhelm her for a moment, the wand in her hand sparks– and then Jay’s moving, and it’s always Jay her _first_ acting for her and they’re pledging themselves to good, except it’s not to _good_ it’s to _her, again._

“Just to be clear, we don't have to be worried about how really mad our parents will be? Because they're gonna be really, really mad”. Mal’s blood _flames_ and she can feel the bleeding in her eyes that tells her they’re glowing green. _No one_ will be touching what’s hers, she will tear them apart if they try. 

Of course that’s when her mother arrives.


	9. cause we could be immortals, just not for long

If Evie had stopped and thought for a second she would have known down to her _bones_ that Maleficent was free. Of course she was, Mal’s cadre– Evie’s _friends–_ had just made the riskiest decision of their _entire lives_ , _of course_ retribution would be swift. But Evie hadn’t had time to stop and think, had been too busy gawking at Mal’s hesitation ( _Mal never hesitates_ ) and reformatting her entire worldview around the idea that they were _betraying Evil_ and their parents both. Somehow Jay had known (Jay had always known, he was Mal’s first, her Second, and Evie knew their bond was eternal, it was no surprise that Jay knew her mind better than she herself did), and his strong arms began shepherding her and Carlos (who were his to protect, always), edging them off the mezzanine. Unlike the rest of the panicked, screaming guests who had only just begun to think of fleeing, the Isle trio had moved with purpose, twisting themselves through the knotted crowd, glittering sharks slicing neatly through the tumultuous sea of people. Now, Evie sees the moment Mal throws the wand to Fairy Godmother and her heart sinks. She knows their leader is scared, knows she was trying to offload the battle to someone else, but Maleficent’s power has been chaining Mal since her eyes first flashed green and Evie could see that _it wouldn't work_ moments before it happened. Mal moves, but Maleficent is faster. Evie feels the wave of Maleficent’s power surge through the cathedral, feels its sticky, tacky substance skitter across her skin, making her flesh crawl as it’s forced away, cresting over them and retreating, unable to find purchase. Her awareness snagged on hidden spools of latent power she had painstakingly sewn into the underside of her and her friends’ (her _friends,_ not just _allies_ or _cabal_ ) clothes, threadwork that had always rung hollow echoed with more than emptiness now, for the first time the lines of intent and power and _witchcraft_ her mother had made sure she knew coming to life around her. The rings of _protection_ , and _safety_ , and _strength_ , and _deflection_ , and _we will triumph_ that she had imbued through habit alone were _working_ and Maleficent _scowled_ as her power was deflected. 

Mal felt the outpouring of her mother's magick, familiar in its tang yet breathtaking in its depth and magnitude. Mal knew her mother had once been intelligent, ruthlessly calculating and cruel to an unbearable degree in defence of what was hers, she knew that the Isle had worn that away, twisting her cruelty into something mindless and much worse, stamping out any care (Diablo had died, and Mal had never seen her mother mourn anything like she did the death of her longtime companion), and blunting her intelligence as the mad rot set in. Mal had known this, but she hadn’t known that Maleficent’s power had been festering along with her mind, two decades spent ceaselessly plumbing depths and dredging barely a single sporadic drop had opened up mother up to a well of power so vast Mal’s mind was spinning as she struggled to comprehend it. 

“Where shall we begin? Oh I know,” Maleficent’s smile wasn’t so much a bearing of teeth as a gleaming threat, and Mal tried to keep herself from flinching away. She couldn’t give in, she _couldn’t–_ her cabal needed her, _Ben_ needed her. “Why don’t we start by getting rid of _this_?” with a flick of her fingers the Prince’s ring flew from Mal’s hand and into her mother’s grasp. Green glimmered in the dragon Fae’s eyes and the shadow of emerald flames flickered to life along her fingers, wreathing Ben’s ring– the gold bubbled and hissed, charring as it dripped off Maleficent’s palm, molten metal splattering to the floor, the fully-realised dragon Fae wreathing the cathedral in flames with but a thought. For a single moment Mal was overwhelmed with sadness, drowning in the rip of exposure to her mother’s true power, gasping for air as the band that had been snug around her ribs in the presence of the twisted shadow of Maleficent’s power bore down on her with crushing magnitude. She gasped, a sob, and her eyes shone with tears. It was hopeless, they were lost, condemned to a fate worse than death as _traitors_ , surrounded by fire on all sides– And then her mother, the terrifying, cruel, vicious Queen of the Moors was approaching Ben, who was _Mal’s_ and who had _claimed her_. She hadn’t even realised power was exploding from her until the Mistress of Evil was recoiling, Mal _glaring_ and spitting at her mother, burning green eyes flaring as she stood her ground, gasping out as the snarl of power around her heart, _binding_ her to her mother’s will, strung tight, tighter than it had ever been before. She fought to keep from retching but would not back down.

“You don’t know what I want, mother, and you _will not touch what is mine._ ” She thrust out a hand, _reaching_ for something she didn’t know, and felt the wand sing, rebelling against her mother’s grip. Mal’s hand closed around the smooth hilt of Fairy Godmother’s wand and electricity exploded along her veins. 

Her blood pounded, mind split between her friends ( _friends_ , but they were much more than that) and the roaring flames encircling the cavernous hall, constrained by her mother’s will but _scarcely_ , already beginning to burn. She barely had any thoughts left for her own head, mindlessly trying to counter her mother’s power. Protecting her cabal was second nature to her, background thought, but she had to expend far more focus than she could spare to shielding Ben first, then his mother and Fairy Godmother, Jane and Lonnie then the rest of the hall’s frozen inhabitants, struggling to meet Maleficent’s power head on. She knew the dragon Fae was taunting her, not putting any _real_ effort into her attacks against her daughter, showing Mal, showing them all, just how strong she is. Evie is screaming behind her, because Maleficent know’s Evie is the one keeping the four of them safe, and her power is coming for her but Evie has taken a knife to her palm and is scrawling sigils in her own blood along the bare skin of her forearm to counter the Fae Queen’s power, and Mal can practically _hear_ her mind moving, leaping from target to target as quickly as Maleficent is, blocking her attempts to harm the inhabitants of the cathedral, the Queen, and prince Phillip, and Aurora and queen Leah and Audrey and–

  
And Carlos too is moving, he flies forward with a blade gleaming in his hand, aiming for Maleficent’s side, his dog proving them all right, finally showing its vicious nature in defence of its pack as the mutt leapt forward, jaws fastening into the fae's flesh above Maleficent's knee. The High Fae howled, snapping her fangs towards the mutt, but Jay– 

The son of Jafar took advantage of Maleficent’s distraction, darting forward and trying to wrestle the staff from her grasp. As soon as his hands closed around the wood he was screaming, arching back as something exploded within him. The Eye glowed under his grip and the smooth sands of the desert shattered over his vision, red flickering along his fingers as his spine contorted, seizing under him as his vision whited out into nothingness. Distantly Jay felt Maleficent’s hands on him, moving forward with serpentine grace, cresting his shoulders, nails catching over the marks etched into his skin, Mal’s marks, covered by his jacket– the Mistress of Evil recoiled as if burned and something erupted in his blood, Mal’s possessive scream ringing in his head. He stumbled backwards, head ringing, dazed, wondering how he had ended up on the floor–

And the band of her mother’s control that had been binding, constraining Mal as long as she could remember didn’t so much snap as _shatter._ Mal’s mind fractured, splintering along JayandEvieandCarlosandBen. Blood welled in her lungs, splattering her lips as she coughed, choking on it, but her heart sang, pounding as if finally free, and her power _sang_. Maleficent snarled, stumbling, and then she was twisting, folding in on herself, and when she stood it was on four legs instead of two, massive wings unfurling as she took to the air in her dragon form. Her first attack was predictable, yet Jay barely had time to scramble out of the way of the ball of flame consuming the spot he had been lying on the floor. He staggered, feeling almost drunk, and the world slid out from under him as he fled, pursued by the draconic Mistress of Evil. He could hear Mal screaming, a shrill, piercing noise that wasn’t quite human and then Evie was there, gaelic spitting from her tongue as she scrawled with her blood on the stone floor. He skidded over the line, Carlos yanking him forward, just as Maleficent’s fire caught up with him, breaking on the magical barrier Evie had made. 

“It won’t hold,” she gasped, struggling, sweat beading on her forehead and hands shaking. She looked pale, and Carlos caught her as she sagged to her knees. Jay’s vision swam, and he staggered, struggling to stay upright. It was Mal who moved, stepping over the line and into the path of her mother’s flame. 

When Maleficent’s jaws finally closed Jay had to blink away the afterimage of the brilliant white-hot flames seared into his vision, relief surging so quickly that he almost gasped on it. Mal was standing there, unhurt, eyes a poisonous neon green, small body wreathed with the shadowy image of unfurled wings, the impression of curved horns crowning her head. She clutched the wand in a clawed hand and snarled at her mother, fangs glinting. Her dress was smoking, singed slightly, yet Evie’s wards had held. Jay thought she’d never looked more beautiful. She’s still reeling from the magical backlash, an open target she _knows this_ , when she begins to speak, the Old Language of the Fae spilling from her lips as she raises the wand, victorious smirk curling dangerously about her lips. They move then, flanking her as they always do (and always will), Evie at her right, hand rested on her shoulder, Carlos her mirror image to Mal’s left, Jay bringing up the rear. Together, they face Maleficent. 

When Fairy Godmother tells them that Mal didn’t do this, that Maleficent shrank to the size of the love in her heart, Evie wants to laugh. She knows it’s not true, their confrontation had seemed to last an age, her hasty bloodwards falling away as Mal stared her mother down, free of the shackles Maleficent had bound her with as a child, and vicious in defense of her people. Even now, watching that familiar tilt to Mal’s brow– as if she was in on some big joke at your expense, as if she had a secret you didn’t even know you were dying to know– and the way her gaze lingered on the lizard that was Maleficent, Evie knew she had done it, knew with complete certainty that Mal’s power was holding her mother’s form. But Evie wasn’t stupid, and she knew Mal wasn’t either, if Fairy Godmother had given them an out, either knowingly or through ignorance, then they would take it. If they were going to stay in Auradon, and Evie would dissect her thoughts on that _later_ (she was Mal’s and she would follow her unto death, if Mal said they were staying then they would stay), then it would be wise to keep the heroes from thinking (knowing) that the demi-Fae girl was stronger than their greatest fear. 

Mal was having similar thoughts, struggling to hold off the majickal exhaustion rising up to claim her, fighting to stave off the blackness eddying at the edges of her vision. Her entire being ached, and she sunk to her knees, forcing down the urge to retch, playing it off as concern over the lizard form of her mother. 

“Is she going to be like that forever?” her voice was plaintive, small and concerned, the perfect blend of sadness and relief. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. She knew was a good act, and when had she gained Evie’s skill in deception?

“Forever is a long time,” Fairy Godmother said kindly, genuinely softening in the face of Mal’s emotional display “you learned to love, so can she”. The urge to laugh was so strong that Mal let herself give in the face of her injuries, allowing wet coughs to wrack her body, feeling blood fleck her lips once more. Her mother had known love, she had loved Diablo, and _Aurora_ , and _Stephen_ who had _betrayed_ and _violated_ her. She wasn’t a stranger to love, it had been stamped out by Stephen and her twisted resurrection, it wasn’t her fault she hadn’t (didn’t) loved her daughter, it was _Auradon’s_. But Mal was tired, and beyond rage. She wanted Ben, she wanted Jay, and wanted Evie and Carlos and _sleep_. Her eyelids fluttered closed, blackness swimming before her eyes, and she could feel the pulsing of the wand in her hand, the tingling in her fingertips and lighting sliding up her arm. 

“I believe this belongs to you,” she said, barely remembering to act deferential, proffering the wand to the faerie in front of her. For a second she thought the wand was stuck to her palm, felt its hesitation to part from her, but Fairy Godmother coaxed it effortlessly back into her grip. The moment it was gone from her grasp Mal sagged, ground swaying before her, suddenly exhausted and weary. Had the wand been keeping her upright? Keeping her mind clear? What business did the wand have with her? She couldn’t stand on her own, she knew that, and apparently so did Jay, because him and Carlos pulled her to her feet before her face hit the stone floor. She let herself be sandwiched between them, feeling faint. Fairy Godmother’s expression softened further, and she stepped back, twirling the wand with a dramatic flourish, turning in place as magick unfurled from her. Mal felt the wave wash over her gently, so unlike her mother’s power, yet familiar all the same, buoying her upwards, dizziness falling away as her lungs stopped burning, soothed by the golden warmth swirling around the cathedral. Mal blinked, and Evie was in front of her, grinning, reaching out to hand her a golden ring, palm miraculously healed. Ben’s ring. Mal flushed, and snatched it. 


	10. and we could be immortals

In the aftermath of the coronation everyone wanted a piece of the VKs. Overnight they’d been plunged into the spotlight of Auradonian media, and they weren’t prepared in the slightest. Everyone was rife with speculation—some adamant that this was all some elaborate ploy, a trick to get Auradon to lower its guard, others insisting that they’d known the four had been good all alone. Mal didn’t know what to make of it and was too exhausted to care, worn out and recovering slowly, keeping herself barricaded in the boys’ room. It was Evie and Carlos, unsurprisingly, who recognised the opportunity this presented, and they’d convened many a strategy session with now-King Ben over how best to leverage the media storm to raise awareness of the conditions on the Isle, to drum up support for getting more kids out, and putting systems in place to try improve the conditions over there until that could happen. Mal’s one insistence was that there be no rush, blanket decisions. Yes things had worked out bringing them across, but not everyone on the Isle was anything other than evil, and Mal knew a handful of children who should never be trusted, not while things were so unstable, not where one screw up could doom any hope of reform. To their credit, Ben’s parents, the dowager King and Queen, were supportive. Former-King Beast’s memories of the latter half of his son’s coronation were patchy, fragmented at best, but Belle remembered almost perfectly, as did Fairy Godmother and Ben. It seemed that those who Mal and Evie had protected first, and for longer—Ben, Fairy Godmother, Belle, Lonnie and Jane primarily, along with a handful of others including the House of Briar Rose—had the most memory of the events, had been frozen immobile but still able to see and hear, kept from the worst of Maleficent’s spell. Grudgingly, they’d all vouched for the children they’d hated, who’d saved them all despite their scorn. Mal and her cadre had kept silent about their once plans, no use riling everyone up over something that hadn’t even happened, but Mal thought that Ben had a hunch, and also knew that he’d forgiven them the moment he’d seen Mal hesitate to take the wand from Jane. He’d known then, with absolute surety, that Mal hadn’t orchestrated that, that if it had been up to her the coronation would have passed without a hitch, and the four probably would have then run away, fleeing consequences from their parents, never to be seen again. He was glad that hadn’t happened, glad that Maleficent had been vanquished and the four freed from the spectre of their parents. He was glad that Mal had stayed. He’d expected things to be weird, with them finally realising that he hadn’t been spelled all along, but if anything the four seemed to respect him for his lie of omission, and things hadn’t changed in the slightest. 

When Ben walked into the girl’s room after class that afternoon his first instinct was to stop and turn around and walk straight back out. He didn’t, of course, but it’s a close thing. Instead he stood there, gaping for a moment, with no frame of reference that would allow him to process what was going on. He blinked, trying to come up with an explanation for why Evie was standing on her desk, dainty feet perched between haphazard scraps of fabric and chemistry papers, nailing a knotted rope to their window frame with a hammer and nails that someone, probably Jay, had swiped from shop class. Eventually, he decided that it probably had something to do with magic. The coronation had made it clear that Evie had magic, or at least the potential, but it hadn’t been obvious to those looking in just what she’d done. Ben had learned later that it wasn’t just the bloodwork, Evie had unknowingly and unintentionally warded the four with sigils and witchcraft strong enough to hold against Maleficent’s attacks, and had been the reason the four had been spared from her statue spell, and that Mal’s clothes hadn’t burnt off her during her showdown with Maleficent. He was exceedingly grateful for that. Movement to his right caught his attention, and Ben turned to see Mal staring at the wall, a fierce knot of concentration drawing her eyebrows into a stern frown. Her arms are moving, gaze unblinking as her fingers trace patterns in the air, and slowly solid green glyphs shimmer to life against the wall. It takes a minute, but eventually Ben recognised them as warding. But why was she warding the room? And more importantly, hadn’t she already? But Ben was distracted from his thoughts by Mal, backlit by shining, glittering light. It was lighter, brighter, than any of the shadowed sparks he’d seen her emit before. _She’s beautiful_ , Ben thought, and then he noticed the blood. 

“Uh, Mal?”

“What,” the demi-Fae snapped, though there was little heat in her words, flicking her eyes over her shoulder to where Ben remained frozen in the doorway “can’t you see I’m busy?”

“You’re bleeding”

“Huh?” she looked down, to where a thin stream of blood was trickling down her shoulders, dripping off the edge of her chin, running steadily from her nose. Ben was at her side within moments, taking her arm and easing her onto her bed. Evie, having leapt lithely from the desk the moment Ben had mentioned Mal bleeding, tossed him a rag, which he used to gently wipe the blood from her face. She batted his hands away, smearing at the blood with the back of one hand, and grinning up at him, light and free, smile tinged with the ghost of fangs. Ben didn't even blink, which had some wild, animal part of Mal preening. She may not have seen herself during the fight at the coronation, but plenty of others had, and the image of a clawed demi-Fae wreathed in spectral flames and shrouded with the shadow of horns and wings hadn’t been quick to leave people’s minds. Ben though, didn't seem to care at all, and Mal loved him all the more for it. 

“ _Why_ are you bleeding Mal?” Ben asked, and both girls looked at him with confusion.

“We’re staying here now, so the room needed warding, and I had to make it stay” she said, slowly, as if she was aware there was something she was missing. Ben suppressed the urge to hold his face in his hands. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that _not_ overexerting oneself to the point of magical backlash had never occured to either of them.

“You’re meant to be resting,” he said, wiping away the rest of the blood and making her pinch the bridge of her nose. He didn’t say that neither of them were meant to be using their powers without supervision or some actual training, not just because of the danger they posed to others but the very real threat of burning themselves out. Fairy Godmother had been trying to put together some sort of training regime for both girls, but was having to proceed slowly and in secrecy due to the widespread stigma against _anyone_ practicing magic, even her. Ben could have reminded them of these things, but he didn’t think they’d forgotten, and he didn’t feel like wasting his breath. “Why the wards anyway? Hadn’t you already done the place? You could certainly keep everyone out of Jay and Carlos’ room if you felt like it”

“That’s different,” Mal said, voice muffled and distorted, “I didn’t do that on purpose, the room just sort of, soaked it up I guess.” She didn’t mention what she’d done to accidentally imbue the room with so much of her power, to attune it to her wishes. She didn’t exactly know what it was that she’d done to Jay, but she could guess the official Auradon stance on whatever power she’d used to mark her true name into his skin, and she didn’t need Ben ratting them out to Fairy Godmother, not even under the guise of seeking advice. 

“It was alright when it was only temporary,” Evie said, knowing the train of Mal’s thoughts and quick to step in “but none of exactly feel comfortable being watched _every_ second of the day” 

“What do you mean?” Ben frowned, honestly perplexed.

“Come on Ben,” Mal said, rolling her eyes as she removed her fingers from her nose, glad that the bleeding had stopped “you don’t honestly expect us to believe that you brought the top VKs over from the Isle without _some_ precautions.” Ben blinked, shocked.

“ _You_ don’t expect me to believe that you thought there was _surveillance_ in your _rooms_ do you?”

“There isn’t?” Both girls asked, incredulous. “Seriously?” 

Since then all four of the VKs behaviour had changed, so subtly that at first Ben thought he was imagining it, before he’d realised that they’d been acting 24/7 out of fear of giving themselves away. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint _what_ it was that was different, just that something was, the very air around the four Isle teens seeming more at ease. There was no more hesitation between them, they were more tactile, more willing to lean into each other’s space, and that extended to him and Doug too. They didn’t hesitate to share food, eating off each other’s plates in the dining hall and always making sure everyone had access to food. Ben couldn’t count the number of times he’d found muesli bars or wrapped chocolates in his pockets that he knew he hadn’t put there himself. It was nice, Ben could admit that, he’d never really been part of a _group_ before, not like this, not as Prince Ben, but he still felt uncomfortable with the attention from Evie and Jay, both people he’d spent minimal time with, treating him as if they cared about him, placed him on the same level as each other simply by default. 

Eventually, he drew Mal aside, taking her out into the gardens one day, just the two of them. He wanted to know, needed to know, whether they were still dating, whether they’d even been dating at all or if it had all been part of the plot he was increasingly sure the four had had. 

“Mal, I just wanted to ask, I’m sorry I know you didn’t mean it- I mean, I’ve forgiven you of course, even though I think I was wrong with my initial assumptions, it’s just-” she levelled him with a long look, and Ben hung his head. “Are we really dating? Because I do like you, I do, I want you to know that, it was never just the spell for me. And I’d never hold it against you if you _didn’t_ like me like that, but there’s no difference in how you treat me than how you treat Evie, or Carlos, or how _Evie_ treats me, and it doesn’t make sense to me” He was rambling now, nervous, but he’d never _really_ had to ask someone out before, or have this conversation at all. Even with Audrey there’d been the expectation on her part, and he knew that if they’d been born even a generation or two earlier they would have been betrothed since birth. At least he could tell that Mal was listening, head tilted to the side as she took in his every word, forehead creased with a familiar expression of confusion as she confronted yet another concept that was foreign to her. Mal was silent for a long moment, clearly thinking about how best to describe her thoughts, and Ben had to force himself to keep still rather than give in to the nervous energy eating him up from inside. Eventually, Mal spoke.

“I wasn’t joking about no one dating on the Isle, I meant what I said about people operating in gangs. You and Doug are part of that now, part of our cabal, we trust you. And I do like you, you’re smart and funny and caring and so, so gut-wrenchingly optimistic that sometimes I make myself sick thinking about how easy it would be for someone to take advantage of you or stomp that light out. I just, don’t know what to do?” She shrugged her shoulders a bit, looking away as shame tinged her cheeks “I’m the first person I know who’s _dated_ someone, I don’t know what it’s meant to be like, I’ve never seen anyone do this before.” Ben took her hand, spinning him to face her and tugging her into a gentle embrace. She tucked her head underneath his chin and he felt warmth bloom in his heart.

“Well, for the record, I’m not super experienced with relationships either, so how about we just figure things out as we go? As long as we promise to tell each other when we’re uncomfortable or want to try something things should be okay. And if they don’t work out they don’t work out, easy as that, no hard feelings”. Mal laughed, and Ben could feel the vibration of it through his chest.

“Promise,” she said, and he could hear the small smile creasing the edges of her lips. Ben grinned, giddy. In a way it made sense, sure her closeness with her friends wasn’t exactly _respectable_ in Auradon, but it wasn’t the only thing that had been a little warped by the way the four had grown up, and it was probably the only reason any of them were as well-adjusted as they were. Besides, Ben was beginning to care less and less about what Auradon deemed acceptable anyway, far too aware of how Auradon considered the state of the Isle _acceptable_ and really, that was the first thing Ben was planning to change. So he just let it go, smiling as he took Mal’s hand and began leading her through the roses once more, for the first time in far too long genuinely excited for the future and its endless possibilities.


End file.
